Trouble (Gadbad) Icecream

Circa 1975 Mangalore, India, a guy behind the ice cream counter got really angry. A customer wasnt very happy with his ice cream perhaps. He demanded more. A very customer fat. Someone who wants a meal out of an ice cream. Pissing off the ice cream guy was perhaps a bad mistake.

But since, ice cream guys dont carry knives, he tried to do it with ice cream. 'You want special ice cream ehh. Let me shovel whatever sweet stuff I can find in the shop. A wheelbarrow of ice cream, a bucket of nuts, semi solid fruit salad thingy and drench the damn thing with syrup of three kinds. I hope you get a diabetic attack or brain damage.' And so the Gadbad Ice Cream was invented.

Post workout meals should be good enough to replace, refuel and build. So after a sumptuous honey glazed chicken dinner at Casablanca cafe located at the BSK BDA complex area, my aching muscles still craved sustenance. Time for a falooda.I walked into the SLV swadishta which has desserts good enough to rival Baskin robins just a few metres away all at a quarter of the price and none of the pretentiousness. The dessert chemist at SLV swadishta was all out of ingredients for a Falooda. 'You look hungry, how about a Gadbad' he suggested.


Long story short more of a meal less of a simple ice cream. Well thank god I didnt suffer any diabetic attacks.

Going back - Battle of the Balloons

To get better at writing I did the best thing lately, I joined the writers meetup club and I was just amazed at the increase in output and quality of my writing. I guess some of the talent there is rubbing off.

So this week the theme was Memoir, I shuddered - what do I write a memoir about, didnt do much and always think I havent lived much to write about. But I was surprised the way the session was conducted. At the end of one exercise I was able to type out a pretty decent piece in 15 mins. So here is a story from my childhood.

Battle of the Balloons

 

They had messed with us again and they shall do so for the last time. It was time for retaliation. Boundaries would not be honored. Truce cannot be called now. This chance comes only once a year. Its school holiday and tomorrow I shall be barely recognizable. The colors don’t wash off so soon and knowing what my enemy is usually up to they wont wash off for weeks.

This was the usual saga of Holi. It happens each year on the last day of Holi when they burn the holy fire, when our parents aren’t minding us, we boys would unite for war with the neighboring housing complex– it was my camp Pritisangam Society versus Sidhharudha housing society. It was a healthy hearty and sometimes stupid contest which involved balloons and water guns filled with water mixed with an assortment of things I don’t wish to recollect.

Located in Borivali west locality of Mumbai, my apartment complex like many others in Mumbai were like tiny kingdoms. Each complex had its cultures and values. The camaraderie amongst the citizens of these kingdoms was truly awesome and the sense of community was very warm and conducive for a good upbringing.  If your parents didn’t correct you for doing something wrong, damn sure your neighbors will. They had the rights and it was their duty to do so

Back to the war. I was the leader of the young runts, which was a great responsibility.  My counterpart was Pratik a portly gentleman who had difficulty pronouncing the R’s. We shared one boundary wall along our compound with the enemy, interrupted by tall ashoka trees. We would take our positions along this wall and would subject any intruder with merciless dousing of the liquid which used to be plain water followed by dragging them in a mud pool and finally marching them back through the compound gates. The seniors would ignore us as they were more interested in checking out the opposite sex from the other compounds.

There would be a final attack, there has to be. It was already 10 pm and due time for Mom to come grab me by my collar. Finally the attack came. I was expecting it. Pratik should have read Sun Tzu’s works. The advantages of higher reaches in a battle. We were perched on the boundary wall hidden behind the Ashoka trees. We rained down the attackers with a barrage of water balloons and a secret weapon wielded by my lieutenant Bullya, tough plastic bags filled with water which were more like maces than bags. They were caught by surprise and capitulated immediately back to their camp.

The skirmish was ended with a sudden sirenous screech of Pratik’s Mom to call him back home or have his bottoms rapped again, who I figured out that day could also not pronounce her R’s

 

White wine and sea breeze.

I have been away from Mumbai for 5 years- which has taken a major toll on my knowledge of it. Places to eat, roads to take and things to check out.  I always depend on my friends to take me to the right places at the right times. And whenever we go I always find myself in Bandra west, consistently like clockwork. Bandra is the ultimate hangout destination. It has the sea, the food and the people.

So this weekend we decided to get a bit posh- how about some wine. I was surprised, wine isn’t exactly the drink for outings. More for classy parties or an exquisite gift that your teatotaling boss cant drink. I was not at all excited.  I was in for an amazing surprise.

We went to Ivy wine tavern in Bandra West, flagship store of Sula wines. On offer were wines not available even in stores. Amazing ambience with a guitar playing singer filling in for the background music, which was really good. Requests for old and new English songs were rendered amazingly well. This might hit the wallet was the first thought that came to my mind. Again I was to be wrong. The prices which I thought would be per glass was actually per bottle! My experienced friend summoned a  white wine – Vin Apple Blanc – an apple infused white wine from the Menu which nicely displayed its offerings light and breezey, fruity, full bodied etc for newbies such as myself.

So how was it? Nice, very very nice. I don’t know anything about Wine, Vintage, Dryness etc etc. It just tasted damn good. The apple flavor was there yet wasn’t overbearing. Foodwise things looked still great. The Menu covered finger foods to full blown meals. All in all its an amazing wine experience. We didn’t realize how quick we finished the bottle – we went for another white twice as expensive, if I remember correctly a chenin blan. But this  one  didn’t quite reach the level set by the first. Not bad though.

Guitar guy came our way and my pal requested November Rain by GNR, I am sure if I brought my date to this venue I would have had a very very happy date.

I usually never dedicate lines to a crowd in a restaurant. But what a crowd! A very very heavy presence of the fairer sex in a very classy crowd. A lot of foreigners and seemingly artsy crowd made this experience very unique. As one of my cohorts rightly said, I fell in love many times since I stepped into this restaurant.

This place is a definite must do. If you are in Mumbai and don’t mind a bit of wine this cannot be missed.  If you have a date and don’t take her to this place, you need to get punched, in the face, by your date.

We didn’t eat our fill because we had to reserve place for Carter;s blue at carter road. Shawarma rules and Carter’s Blue makes it real good. But the most amazing and mindblasting element of this shawarma is eating them while sitting on the sea wall facing the Arabian sea, the tepid humid sea breeze in your face and a wonderful youthful Mumbai crowd having a good time. Its 12.15 am in the night and people still couldn’t find parking along the road. But some of us have to go to Office, I felt lucky that I had a 5 day work week.

One more wonderful night in Mumbai – god bless this city.

Preheating the stomach

Time for appraisals. You set goals for the coming year and get evaluated on how miserably you failed against the ones from last year.

But its important to set goals. Write down things. Last time I did was for my trip through the iconic Eat Street - VV Puram in Bangalore. With its several fables, I had to quite literally write down what to eat, where to eat and how much to eat.

Seems like I got some more noting down to do. I am poring over the plentitudes of blogs and articles about the legendary Mohammed Ali road during Ramazan. It would be very rare to not have heard of it, read about it or watched Foodie TV programs.

And so I aim - this Saturday, its going down.

Of Dahi Kachoris and Shoplifting

Dirty hands, check. Grimy sweat of non personal origin left over after a local train journey, check. Suspicious levels of hygiene and a crowd to rival concerts – all ready to eat Chaat in Bombay. Today I ate again what I feel is the best Dahi Kachori in the world– a huge kachori stuffed and layered with chutney, tomatoes, onions, sev and sweet dahi slopping over your fingers in a paper plate barely big enough to bear its content.  The multitudes of textures and flavors and the perfectly sweet dahi mixed with the tangy chutneys dripping on your feet as you bite into this wonderful UFO shaped creation. This is at Sri Ram sweets in Sai Baba Nagar Borivali, Mumbai. The place I grew up in. Many thanks to the Gujaratis, over here you would be forgiven to think you are in Gujarat. Their unending taste for fast food brings along many of these delights I miss everyday in Bangalore.

This was my after school succor. Some Dhokla, some dahi puri, some sev puri, some ras malai and on rare occasions a round of pani puri. Afternoon snacks meant many trips to Sri Rams for some chat. I used to eat poorly when growing up, was super thin and didn’t have much of any appetite. But this, bring it on anytime anywhere. I just had dinner and am salivating again.

Trips back are made so much better with food. And recollection of misadventures.

Now I am a law abiding citizen, usually when the traffic’s light. So while going through the place of from my formative years, I passed by an old building which used to have a shopping centre, perhaps the first modern ones in the country.  A chocolate fish shaped like a dolphin was the rage back then. Back then when we bought something, we pointed to stuff and pay the shopkeeper. Shopping mart was a new thing and I didn’t understand it completely when I was 5 years old. Nobody guarding the goods, just goodies on shelves which you could probably just pop into your pocket especially the dolphin – perhaps I thought its like an amusement park where you pay an entry fee and freak out.  The Mart closed down very soon, unfortunately. I hope it was the financial conditions rather than my ignorance. Anyways I am sure to have written enough to get me on a list. I am worried my Mom would read this.

Perspective for Lunch

My stomach churns. Literally. Any appetite that I might have built up or naturally occurring would shrink immediately. I have, unfortunately, reached this stage when it comes to lunch in office. I turn to Buddhism - have food to sustain the soul. Barely.

Well its not that bad.At least thats what I get told. I am offered perspectives. Think of all the hungry people in the world, who donot receive not a grain not a drop of water. And here you are bestowed with..with this. So stop cribbing and stop eating from my Lunch Box.

So I think I will try hard to describe my food with the suggested perspective - whats usually for lunch? Two pieces of lovely Indian Flat Bread prepared with a checkered baking technique, a healthy vegetable salad at suspicious levels of freshness, peas (usually) floating in a lissome gravy not to be confused with motor oil, fried and spiced vegetables in a slime gravy, white rice of a mysterious chalky variety with a distinctive unsettling character once ingested, more rice of same variety but rendered with tomato or soya infusing some character, a wonderful thin dal of such make and consistency only rivaled by dals in government hospitals, curd(yoghurt) diluted and re-diluted to ensure homoepathic consistency, salt water forgivably called 'rasam' and finally the actual and honest highpoint - fries which gets ruthlessly flicked off my plate by others deficient of food. The dessert is ok, strictly.

But there are alternatives. I can have some very boring sandwiches, fruits and some sprout salads.But there is a saving grace- a Manhattan Sandwich - entirely unrelated to the original Manhattan Sandwich. This double layered spicy mayo and vegie sandwich saves the day many a times. People visiting the Indian office from overseas, resort to this tried and tasted culinary marvel. But its not lunch.

So I had the best thing on offer today, a glass of sweet lime juice and some perspective. Those poor starving kids in other offices...

Hungry in Bangalore: Eat Street aka VVPuram – Bangalore's answer to Khau Galli

Took me 4 and half years to get here. Its like being in Agra and missing out the second best thing after the Taj Mahal in the food department. As you can see my metaphors have gotten worse after my hiatus.

Bangalore's answer to Mumbai's Khau gallis, both in crowd, taste and quantity Eat Street or Chat Street or Food Street or the original name VV Puram is a must visit. When asked by any guests what is the trademark, or distinctive street food of Bangalore – I would usually say Masala Puri or Gobi Manchuri (this isnt a chinese dish let me reiterate) or some Bhajjis (fritters for anglophones). I dare not say Dosa and idli cause thats best found in Bombay or the Bay Area and are just too usual fares. But the answer was right in the front of me for all these years here. Just point them to Eat Street.

People here have constantly mentioned this eat street, but in modest tones – never like the blatant chest thumping praises for Chowpatty. Its almost like as if Bangaloreans didnt want outsiders to know about this place. Too bad. We are invading this bastion too. Crowding your eat street and changing the way food is made. This is but natural, food sold is tailored to suit the crowds that eat which has changed from the past.

So after a jarring and eventful 1.5 hour search for this place guided by google maps, we realized its much better to chuck the gps and simply ask people for directions, we hit eat street with a vengence like titanic hitting a crowded well lit, good smelling iceberg which had a lot to offer than what was visible. I am going to stop with the metaphors now.

Immediately we saw a TV crew for a food programmed from TLC channel covering a shop – we were at the right place. We watched the shooting for a few minutes observing for clues which would help chalk up a strategy. A strategy, a plan is very ncessary when you attack. We were here to finish a mission in one night. So we broke it down; South Indian or Local, North Indian chats, the South Indian chinese, local dessert and then finally a drink probably followed by a kulfi and then weigh ourselves on the ruppee coin weigh machine.

1.South Indian – or local – we started with the variety dosas. This place is legendary for that. And the amount of crowds will tell you which spot to hit. The varieties are several, we had the chutney roast and th masala bhath dosa. Equally great and filling the chutney roast is a super crisp dosa layered with chutnyes and served with chutneys while the masala bhat is a masala dosa filled with masala rice and peanutes. We wanted to continue trying other varieties but there was so much to be tried. The same shop was selling 'Paddu' – dosa like balls served with a wonderful array of chutneys. Belle holige, nipattu and several other dishes lined the counters and were moving fast. But we had a plan tostick to

2.North Indian chats – apparently recent additions, these shops were also crammed with people looking for a taste of their origin. Wonderfully made North Indian chats like Kachori, dahi papdi and sweets alike had sated many cravings and we could see the crowd swelling by the minute. I loved the dahi papdi and it was distincly north indian taste – which is very much different from the local chat versions. Although the Pav Bhaji was a let down – affirming my belief that Pav Bhaji best be had in Mumbai. We wanted to have some more sweets – but the plan!

3.South Indian Chinese – pronunched 'chayneese'. It means 1 thing most of the time – Gobi Manchuri. Legend has it that some guy made it here and it became popular..yadayadayada. So we had a plate and it was OK. Not nice. Didnt live up to the praises heaped by some of my friends but perhaps he was having a bad day, but looking at the crowd he might be whipping out some mean chayneese usually.

4.Local Dessert – South Indian deserts are plenty, healthy and delightful. And what a delight we discovered – Gulkhand with ice cream and fruits. Dished out in one exclusive shop, swarming with people, the guys dishing it out seemed like they didnt want any more business. I would too given the endless hoarde of people screaming at you to give them this gooey goodness. Gulkhand is basically preserved rose petals, very healthy, and in combination with the butterscotch ice cream and cut up fruits it was amazing. I will be back, definitely.

Note to myself, wear belt a notch loose during such missions. Place for a drink, masala soda at the same shop. Kulfi at the marwadi sweet shop, yes please.

Literally with food upto our throats we trudged back to my bike. Our mission was not entirely successfull, betrayed by our limited appetites. We would be back, definitely to finish what we started.

Hungry in Mumbai: Carter Road, Bandra

As per the latest unofficial survey of the few people who were tortured by this blog, I should be hauled over coals, again. Apart from the usual travesties inflicted, my friends complain that I have failed to do justice to my home town of Bombay. After being adopted by Bangalore I seem to have forgotten my roots and sworn my allegiance to Vada Sambar over Vada Pav. To this I say, my home is where I charge my laptop.

My dull Republic day holiday evening was rescued by the Agnel College gang consisting of 2 other neo-Bangaloreans like me. For them there is only 1 place to hang out, the hang out to beat all hang outs in Mumbai - Bandra, which I unfortunately had done very less of hanging out.

So after much jostling for parking space we hit Carter's Blue for the awesome succulent shawarma, chiken tikka and paneer rolls. This is rolls the right way. I think this is the best I have ever had and I have had a lot. The Shawarma here is much better than the authentic Mediterranean wraps I had in california. I shall come again.

Dont get distracted by the aston martins, harleys and the lowly BMWs while you finish your friends rolls after you done yours. Next up, dosas. After suffering Bangalore's dosas - yes suffering cause face it after sometime what you eat everyday gets pedestrian, we wanted the Bombay version. Cheesed up and crisped out, non jain varieties and made by the trademarked bushy mustached fat Tamilian Anna plated up some Mysore Masala, more like Mumbai Masala. Good stuff.

OK now for some Momos. Dear stomach, I am gonna punish you today. We were disappointed with the poor attendance of celebrities. Anyways as a consolation we snapped up Dance India Dance judge Terence. If you dont recognize him dont fret, neither did Ankit who's expression was priceless.



Ok now what, frozen yoghurt. Seems to be all the rage with one shop crammed to max and a line snaking out into the road. I don't have homicidal tendencies, usually, but after standing in line for a frozen version of 'Shrikhand' if I have to wait behind girls who probably apply make up with a mop wondering what toppings they want only after reaching the counter, getting it piled and then asking them to make it again as the yoghurt wasn't Non Fat. Urge to kill rising...

Note to self, skip the frozen yoghurt stick to Kulfi.

11.30 and the streets were full of people having a good time, something I feel Bangalore lost out a few years ago. We head to Cafe Mocha, another college hang out and we proceed to order another cache of desserts. Time to loosen the belt one notch. Wonderful Apple Cinnamon Tea complimented the ungodly size of cake and Oreo Chocolate chip shake. All this while there was a DJ spinning tracks and happily taking requests.

In this particular visit I came to Mumbai with a pouring cloud on head. This city sure knows how to turn a frown upside down.

Yercaud: Poor Man's Ooty

What does one really want from a vacation. Usually a change from the routine. Some people like to 'chill'. But given that people working in IT are susceptible to lapsing into a coma given the super sedentary lifestyle, it would be nice if one can go stretch out ones limbs.

So we decided to chill some more by going to Yercaud lake in Tamil Nadu.

A wonderfully pleasant 4 hour drive away from Bangalore on Tamil Nadus silky smooth roads, you pass through Steel City Salem as you head upwards into Yercaud. There is nothing much to do here and frankly the poor man's Ooty moniker is deserved given well there isnt anything proper you would get to eat or dine upon unless you would want to splurge in the British era style resorts like the Grand Palace or the Regent Hill Side - which by the way has an opulent buffet.

So this is what you do - you go to the lake do some boating, shoot some arrows at everything apart from the targets, go to the points and vistas and you come back to your hotel room and not get drunk with some bad food, cause you dont get proper booze in this town. Not that I drink. But the best thing is there isnt the same maddening crowd as you could find in Ooty. For me thats good enough.

But as far as the whole chilling thing goes mission accomplished! And make sure on your way to and back, you have some proper South Indian style lunch in some of the nice restaurants on the way.

Would I go back here? Bike ride to Yercaud anyone?

Hungry in Bangalore: Ice N Spice, St Marks road (Guest Review by Karthik)

Guest Article by Karthik -

Situated in one of the most happening areas of this so called "Silicon Valley", Bangalore, lies my most beloved restaurant that goes by the name of 'Ice 'N Spice'. A title that very aptly describes LIFE as well. And yes, i find my very purpose for existence in here. GOOD FOOD.

Known primarily for its British, Italian, and Mexican cuisine the place also offers a few Indo-British (yeah you read that right! ) dishes which are no doubt, the chef's own creation. But good ones at that. The exquisite flavor, and the variety of the food makes the place quite a rage among the foodies!

I, personally being an aficionado of British cuisine( Steak, burgers, et. all) am a regular face over there. The ambience is quite good, and the music is just another reason to be present here. The Non veg steak being a specialty of theirs, is so well made and soft, that you wouldn't need a knife at all! And all this food talk is making me extremely hungry. Sadly I am miles away,and can only look forward for tomorrow to arrive.

A tad too expensive, the place does not have much to offer for the common man, hoping to find an 'Idli' or a 'Dosa' over here. What it does have, are the mouth watering Chicken Steak burgers that are embellished with Barbeque Sauce and oodles of Mayonnaise that comes with the classic potato chips as well. All in all a great combo, that makes for a very satisfying experience every single time i come here. With a large crowd present almost through out the day, the service is
is well...limited. But who cares as long as the food is worth it?

And I am off to make myself a midnight snack!

Until next time,
Bon Appétit!